


Pale Blue Ribbons

by liketolaugh



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Crossdressing, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Non-Sexual Crossdressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 13:43:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7642873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liketolaugh/pseuds/liketolaugh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Allen likes to wear dresses sometimes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Cross, at present, was scarcely aware of anything outside of a slow, creeping sense of dread. It told him, _danger!_ It told him, _not again!_ He remembered it well from the first time Allen had charmed a stranger into giving them a free room, and from the first time Allen had cheated at cards, and the first time he realized Allen spent a significant portion of his time sitting outside Cross’ door, reading and waiting for him to finish fucking whoever he was fucking that night.

“Give us a little twirl, let’s see how that dress moves!”

It was, without a doubt, his ‘Allen Walker is a weird fucking kid’ sense.

A few yards in front of him, Allen twirled, and the light blue dress he was wearing, courtesy of fuck-knows-where, swirled around his knees. A matching ribbon tied into his hair fluttered with the movement. The girls – of which there were no fewer than _three –_ ‘ooh’ed and ‘aah’ed appreciatively, and Allen beamed.

Cross had expected it to be _funny._ He’d been anticipating a night spent laughing at his apprentice’s misery as the girls wheedled him into trying on dresses and makeup.

But no. No wheedling necessary. Because Allen was _enjoying_ it.

“For fuck’s sake, Allen,” Cross said, not particularly expecting to be acknowledged.

Sure enough, Allen shot him a brief, nasty look, but didn’t have time to say anything before the brunette caught his attention again with a hand on his arm. He looked back at her to give her an inquisitive look, and the woman grinned at him.

“Don’t mind him, he’s just grumpy that he couldn’t pull off a dress half as well as you,” she reassured him, and Allen snickered.

Cross almost complained that he didn’t _want_ to pull off a dress half as well as his apprentice did, considered how much teasing that would open him up for, and thought better of it. Instead, he sulked.

Fortunately, their attention was no longer on him. Instead, all three women were staring intently at Allen, who was growing more visibly confused by the moment.

“Glitter?” the redhead suggested after a moment.

“Glitter eyeshadow,” the blonde said decisively. “Turquoise.”

The other two hummed in agreement. The brunette departed briefly to go get it, while the blonde started to explain the finer points of color matching to his attentive apprentice and the redhead pitched in occasionally.

Cross sighed and settled back for a long, long night.

Good thing he had wine.

* * *

At eighteen years old, going on nineteen, Allen had very little idea of what had gotten him through his grade school years, let alone out of his grade school years and _into college._ Constant travel through the most remote parts of the world wasn’t really conducive to a good learning environment.

But somehow, some way, Cross – in between drinking and screwing around and collecting debt for Allen to pay off – had managed to tutor him enough for Allen to get his GED, something that Cross had dragged him to the US _just_ to do.

Why the US, Allen had no idea. Cross had insisted on it.

And then, when he’d gotten his GED, Cross insisted on him going to college. In the US.

Allen had given up on understanding his master a long time ago.

The point was, though, that all of this was what had brought Allen here, standing in the apartment he shared with Kanda and Alma, in front of a smirking Lavi, waiting for the axe to fall.

This was why Allen didn’t make bets. If he wasn’t cheating, his luck was _terrible._

“Hm…” Lavi pondered, dramatically stroking his clean-shaven chin. Allen eyed him warily. “You know, I didn’t think I’d get this far.”

“Then why did you make the bet?” Allen muttered under his breath.

“For the sake of betting,” Lavi said plainly, a small grin flickering across his face. Then, half to himself, “Getting you to run naked across the grounds is kinda overdone, Kanda had dibs on making you shave your head…” Lavi abruptly got a very evil grin on his face. “You know what?”

Allen resisted the urge to take a step back. “What?” he asked apprehensively.

“I,” Lavi declared grandly, “am going to make you wear a _dress.”_

Allen blinked.

“Is that all?”

Lavi’s proud expression immediately collapsed into something dangerously close to a pout. “Is that _all?”_ he demanded petulantly. “It’s _traditional,_ is what it is! A classic!”

“Alma wears dresses all the time,” Allen pointed out, not adding that he used to as well – the girls at the brothels Cross dragged him to had stopped dolling him up when he was about thirteen, but he still _remembered._

“Yeah, but that’s _Alma,”_ Lavi said, as if that explained everything. A moment later, he made an ‘aha’ sort of sound and pointed accusingly at Allen. “Oh no, you’re not getting out of this by playing nonchalant with me! I’ve never seen you in a dress _before,_ and you’re not getting out of this until I do!”

In all honesty, it hadn’t occurred to Allen to dress up by himself. It was something Alma did on a fairly regular basis, but Allen had never made the logical leap into doing it himself.

Well, at least it was serving him well now.

“Alright,” Allen said agreeably, hiding a smile at Lavi’s increasingly befuddled look. “Give me a few days. I want to talk to Alma about this.”

“You don’t need to talk to Alma to learn how to put on a dress,” Lavi argued, but with a wave of his hand and a clearly amused shake of his head, gave the go-ahead anyway.

Allen honestly found it really, really funny that Lavi was so sure Allen wouldn’t enjoy this.

* * *

Allen stared at the mirror, more than a little bit dumbfounded.

“You are magical,” he informed Alma, who beamed, clearly proud of himself.

“I know a lot of tricks,” he explained, grinning at Allen. “I’ve been playing with makeup since my painful acne years, so trust me, I’ve tried _everything.”_

“My scar is _not_ acne,” Allen pointed out, but he couldn’t stop smiling.

“It’s not,” Alma agreed. “But apparently a lot of the same tricks apply, because look.” He made a little explosion gesture with his free hand. “Poof. Gone.”

Allen laughed. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” Alma beamed back, straightening up. “I can’t believe you didn’t mention this to me sooner.” He pouted at Allen. “Think of all the fun we could have had. For _months_ you’ve kept this from me. _Months,_ Allen!”

“I’d kind of forgotten about it,” Allen admitted, chuckling sheepishly.

While Alma was rolling his eyes and sighing dramatically, Allen pushed himself up from the makeup table (complete with large mirror) and stood back, looking himself up and down quickly.

He’d needed Alma’s help to obtain some of this on such short notice, and a lot of it had been _borrowed_ from Alma, but at eighteen rather than ten, there were a lot more things to play with than just dresses and eye shadow.

Allen was wearing a dark blue, one-shouldered dress, designed so it fell in folds and gathered under one ‘breast’, with an ice blue ribbon tied around the waistline and a bow resting on top of the center of the folds; it dropped almost all the way to a black pair of two-inch heels. His scarred left arm stood out clearly, all the way up to the tattoo he’d gotten on his eighteenth birthday. He’d put on eye shadow a few shades lighter than his dress, as well as eyeliner and mascara, but hadn’t had the time to get fake eyelashes as well. On the other hand, he’d managed to lend his face the illusion of being more feminine than it really was, which almost made up for it.

And, to top it all off, Alma had helped him figure out how to cover up his scar so it was like it had never been there at all.

The dress had been a gift from Cross (who had either anticipated this or was trying to be an asshole, Allen could never tell which) while the makeup had been borrowed from Alma. The breast forms had been purchased from a place Alma knew, and the shoes as well.

“Lavi won’t know what hit him,” Alma smiled, clapping Allen on the shoulder.

“And _Kanda’s_ going to know you had a hand in this,” Allen pointed out in return, amused.

“That’s alright!” Alma said cheerfully. “He won’t mind!”

No, he would just grumble endlessly under his breath. Allen laughed.

“Go on, then!” Alma urged, pushing lightly. “I want to see the look on Lavi’s face.”

“Okay, okay,” Allen chuckled, going on and out the door.

In the main room, Lavi was lounging on the couch on the opposite end from Kanda (after having been shoved over multiple times, if experience was any indicator) while Lenalee was perched on the arm beside him, having come to watch the show.

All of them looked over when the door opened, and Allen took a great deal of satisfaction out of seeing Lavi’s jaw drop, even as Kanda sat up sharply and Lenalee’s eyes widened.

In the beat of silence that followed, Allen crossed his arms and let his satisfaction leak into his grin, hips tilting in a way he didn’t normally let them.

“Uh, Allen,” Lavi said hesitantly, after a moment, “You know I only said you had to wear a _dress,_ right?”

“For being top of your year, you can be pretty dumb sometimes, Lavi,” Allen said cheerfully. “I _like_ wearing women’s clothing. Honestly, I should’ve done this a long time ago.”

Lavi stared, and then flopped backward with his hand over his eyes. “Damn. I wasted my chance.” Under his breath, “Should’ve made you run across the grounds naked after all.”

Another beat, and then Lenalee was sliding off the arm of the couch and approaching him, pleased. “You look gorgeous, Allen,” she told him, looking delighted by this turn of events, probably at least partially at Lavi’s expense. “Did Alma help you?”

“Yeah, he did,” Allen confirmed with a smile and a nod. “I asked him almost right after Lavi first named his price.” He barely refrained from shooting a smirk at the still-despondent Lavi.

“He knew a lot already,” Alma offered, cheerfully ignoring Kanda’s almost accusing look. “I think he’s better with eye makeup than you, Lena!”

“No,” Lenalee gasped, but a smile still twinkled in her eyes. “Now that’s just not fair.”

“Does this mean I’m going to get locked out of the bathroom _even more_ now?” Kanda asked, voice an amusing mixture of annoyed and plaintive.

He was ignored.

“Well, now that you’re all dressed up,” Lenalee said matter-of-factly, “it would be a waste not to go out.”

* * *

In the end, Lenalee and Allen went out together, while Alma stayed back to soothe Kanda’s ruffled feathers. (Allen wasn’t even sure precisely why Kanda’s feathers were ruffled, but it amused him nonetheless.)

They chose a halfway nice restaurant and got only a few more weird looks than Allen got on a regular basis, and it surprised Allen how much he enjoyed himself (and some of the looks he got, too).

And at the end of the night, Allen said to Lenalee, “You know, I think I might have to do this a little more often.”

Lenalee grinned at him. “I’m sure you and Alma will have fun together,” she replied. “Just don’t count me out of it, okay?”

“Okay,” Allen said, and grinned.


	2. Chapter 2

When Allen first met Link, it was on professional terms.

Allen, as it happened, was _terrible_ at English. So much time spent in foreign countries _not_ speaking English had largely messed up his ability to interpret connotations, which were, apparently, important in things like understanding poetry. And symbolism? Forget it. Give him a deck of cards and a circle of blank expressions any day.

It had been Lenalee’s idea to get a tutor. She’d put him in contact with a friend of hers, Tewaku, and she had been able to put him in contact with Link, who immediately gained Allen’s interest by bringing a pie to their first meeting.

It was awkward at first; Link apparently had a definitive idea of how a tutor should act, and it fell somewhere along the lines of ‘stiff, formal, and attentive’.  Allen appreciated it, really, but all politeness aside, formality had never really been Allen’s thing, not with people he liked.

It was now most of the way through the semester, and it wasn’t awkward anymore.

Allen straightened up and smiled at Link. “Thanks a lot for your help, Link.”

Link inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Of course, anytime.” He reached out to close the book, and Allen started to gather up his things a moment later. Then, referring to the upcoming final, “You’re sure you feel prepared?”

“I’ll ace it for sure,” Allen assured him. He chuckled nervously. “Well, maybe not _ace_ it…”

“You’ll do fine,” Link decided, shaking his head with a slight softening of his smile. “I promise.”

“I hope so,” Allen smiled, tugging at the hem of his glove. “Are you ready for yours?”

A wince flashed across Link’s face. “As I’ll ever be.”

Now both of them were standing, facing each other from either side of their chairs, equally hesitant. Slowly, a hint of uncertainty made its way onto Link’s face.

“You don’t have an English class next semester,” Link said, going for brisk and missing slightly. “So I suppose you won’t need my help after this.”

Allen kept himself steady and confident. “No, probably not. But we’re friends, aren’t we?” He tilted his head and smiled. “You have my number, right?”

A smile broke out across Link’s face in return. “Yes, I do,” he confirmed. And then, unprompted, “I’ll keep in contact, then.”

Allen beamed at him. “Great! We’ll have to meet up sometime after finals.”

Link’s gaze shifted aside, but the smile stayed. “Yes. Certainly.” He glanced back up to meet Allen’s expectant eyes. “Will you be alright getting home?”

Allen laughed. “Of course I will, Link. Don’t worry.”

Link frowned and shook his head slightly. “I don’t like you going home alone,” he muttered, for what Allen fondly knew as the sixty-seventh time (and probably not the last).

“Link,” Allen protested, politely smothering both his laugh and most of his exasperation. “I’ll be _fine._ It’s not like I live in a red-light district.”

Link visibly cringed, a hint of pink tinting his cheeks. “That- I- That is…” He caught Allen’s amused expression and the flush deepened. “I know,” was what he finally settled on, studiously avoiding Allen’s gaze. “Still, it isn’t particularly safe to go out alone this close to dark.”

Allen’s smile softened. “I know. But really, I’ll be fine.” He grinned. “I can take care of myself, you know.”

Link glanced up. “If you’re sure,” he said at last, and shook his head. “Very well. I’ll see you after finals?”

“After finals,” Allen agreed with a smile.

* * *

Finals were hell, as expected. Allen texted Link after his last, suggesting they meet up on Sunday to hang out. Link agreed soon enough, and promised to bring cookies on top of it. Link was the _best._

For now, it was Friday night, Allen was free, and he wanted to go out.

“When are you getting back?” Kanda asked suspiciously, standing by the door, _hovering._ It was almost adorable. Allen wanted to laugh. “I want to know when I have to go look and see if you’ve been murdered.”

Alma _did_ laugh. “We’ll be back by midnight, Yuu,” he smiled. “I promise!”

“You’d _better,”_ Kanda grumbled. “If I have to go murder someone for you, I’m gonna be _pissed.”_

“Oh, _Yuu,”_ Allen cooed, and Kanda gave him a glare of death. “Are you worried?”

“Like hell!” Kanda snarled, and turned around to storm off, slamming his bedroom door behind him.

“Allen, that wasn’t nice,” Alma chided, hiding a grin of his own. “He really is worried!”

“I know,” Allen admitted, and shot Alma a slightly mischievous smirk. “That’s why I asked.”

Alma shook his head at him. “You are not a nice person,” he told Allen with a completely serious face.

Allen pouted. “Well, _that’s_ not a nice thing to _say.”_

It was perhaps the fourth or fifth time Allen had crossdressed since Lavi had first dared him to, and the third time he’d gone out with Alma.

This time he was wearing a forest green dress with short sleeves, falling just to his knees and made of a thicker, less flowey material than the blue dress had been, though his shoes were the same. There was a pastel blue satin-covered bangle around his left wrist, more for the sake of amusement than anything, and he’d made up his eyes to be a little more dramatic than usual just for fun.

Alma, meanwhile, had put on a red shawl over a purple button-up blouse and a dark grey skirt, only partway past his knees, with high-heeled shoes that were at least an inch higher than Allen’s. Unlike Allen, he was wearing a long, curly wig and silver earrings that dangled and caught the light. He looked excited for their night out – he always did – and his eyes sparkled.

“Did you see how Kanda was ogling you?” Allen teased, changing the subject.

Alma beamed proudly, opening the door so they could get going. “Of course! Yuu loves it when I dress up, even if he won’t admit it.” Softer smile. “And he has, you know. He was really supportive when I first told him.” Brighter again. “And he actually _blushed_ the first time I dressed up for him!”

Allen’s smile softened, too. No matter how gruff he could be, Kanda really did love Alma.

“I don’t even want to know what you get up to after these nights,” he commented, and when Alma’s grin turned mischievous, elaborated, _“Definitely_ don’t want to know.”

“Killjoy!” Alma accused playfully.

“Nope,” Allen disagreed. “Just get enough of that from Cross.”

He didn’t know _why_ Alma found that funny.

* * *

Because it was the end of finals, they went out to their normal celebratory restaurant, a place called the Black Order Diner, which was affordable, gave discounts to students, and had _really great food._

Alma and Allen spent most of the time talking while Allen periodically flirted with the visibly flustered waiter. It wasn’t anything they wouldn’t have done normally, really, but even so- it was nice. It was always nice, and tonight was no exception.

Toward the end of the night, a group came in and was seated at the table beside them. Allen barely noticed, possibly wouldn’t even have glanced over if he hadn’t heard,

“Allen?”

Startled, Allen glanced over.

It wasn’t like he was worried about being recognized. If he had been, he would have stuck to long sleeves and gloves, and worn a wig like Alma. He was pretty distinct, after all.

He hadn’t been _expecting_ it, though.

Despite that, there was Link, sitting with a group of his friends – Allen recognized them, from pictures Link had shown him, as Madarao, Tokusa, Tewaku, Kiredori, and Goushi – blinking owlishly at him, with his gaze drifting down briefly before snapping back up with a flaming blush.

Allen couldn’t stop his own cheeks from turning pink, but all the same, he smiled. “I thought we weren’t meeting ‘til Sunday?” he teased.

“Allen, who’s this?” Alma asked curiously, before snapping his fingers in realization, a wide smile spreading across his face. “Oh! Is this Link?”

“This is Link,” Allen confirmed, when it was clear that Link was deeply unprepared to speak. (He was still staring, in fact.) At Alma’s sly grin, he rolled his eyes, smiling anyway. “Oh, don’t you start.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Alma protested.

“Wait.” Tewaku leaned forward, eyes intent. _“You’re_ Allen? I thought Allen was a boy.”

Allen kept his smile up. “I _am_ a boy,” he agreed, “but I like to dress up as a girl sometimes.” He wiggled demonstratively in his seat. “You get prettier clothes, it’s just not even fair.”

Madarao shook his head, looked at Link, and flicked him on the forehead. “Close your mouth before something flies into it,” he advised. “And stop _gaping_ before your boyfriend starts to get the wrong idea.”

Link closed his mouth, visibly struggled with himself for a moment, and then settled on, “You look… very pretty.” And then he turned red again, looked at Madarao, and objected, “And we aren’t dating!”

Madarao closed his eyes. If Allen had to guess, he was counting to ten to regain his patience.

 _We aren’t dating,_ Allen noted with a great deal of interest. Not _I’m not gay,_ or a similar denial of the possibility.

“Thank you, Link,” was what he said, suppressing a laugh. (Alma, across from him, wasn’t even bothering.) “Are you here celebrating the end of finals too, then?”

“That was the plan,” Link confirmed, and that blush really didn’t want to leave, did it?

“But we seem to have found something rather more interesting,” added Tokusa, with a downright merciless smirk on his face. “Link never told us that his boyfriend liked to crossdress.”

“We aren’t dating,” Link repeated, visibly pained and distinctly _not_ looking at Allen.

The rest of his table laughed. Apparently this was an ongoing argument.

“And he didn’t know,” Allen said in Link’s defense, trying not to laugh. “It never came up.”

“Didn’t come up, he says,” Madarao snorted.

“Don’t worry,” Alma assured Link, smiling broadly, probably at his embarrassment. “It was months before he told me, and I _live_ with him.”

“And have the same interest, I see,” Kiredori noted, eying Alma thoughtfully.

Alma smiled cheerfully. “For much longer, too!”

“Would you like to join us?” Tokusa proposed suddenly, eyes glittering with amusement at Link’s betrayed look. “It’s about time we met you. Link’s been holding out on us.”

“If you’re sure you don’t mind,” Allen agreed with only a hint of hesitation, sending a concerned look Link’s way. It morphed into an amused grin when Link shook his head quickly, giving Allen a small, borderline embarrassed smile as he did.

“I’ll tell Yuu you’ll be back late,” Alma chuckled, starting to rise – they’d been just about ready when Link noticed Allen, and the waiter had come and gone since, meaning they were free to go.

“I don’t you’ll be telling Kanda much of anything for a while,” Allen commented dryly.

Alma shot him a sly grin back. “Well, maybe.”

* * *

It ended up being a fun night, almost more so than when he went just with Alma. Even more fun than the time Kanda went along and growled at everyone who looked at Alma, and some who didn’t. Link’s friends were entertaining and teased Link almost as much as Allen himself liked to, and it was halfway through the meal before Link stopped blushing every time he looked at Allen.

At about one in the morning, Link walked Allen home, confirmed that they were still meeting on Sunday, and left again, leaving a smiling Allen on the doorstep.

It was a nice night.

Sunday afternoon, Allen dressed as he normally did, and they met in the park (Link bearing a bag of the cookies he’d promised) and settled on a bench that overlooked most of the flat field.

It only took a few minutes before Allen noticed that Link seemed preoccupied – even as he answered and countered questions about free time and plans for the next semester and exam difficulty, he stumbled over words and hesitated for long lengths of time, occasionally glancing at Allen with a furrowed brow.

Allen’s heart clenched anxiously.

Finally, he’d had enough, and instead of replying to Link’s comment (something idle about a recipe he’d found) he finished his cookie and asked, “It doesn’t bother you, does it?”

For a moment, Link looked confused. “Bother me?”

“That I like to crossdress sometimes,” Allen elaborated, gray eyes settled on Link’s brown and gleaming with worry.

Link winced, but then shook his head decisively. “No, not at all. I just…” He hesitated. “You’re not transgender, are you? Or gay?”

Allen shook his head cautiously. “I’m not trans,” he confirmed, and then added, “I _am_ gay, though that doesn’t really have anything to do with it.” Link looked caught between interest and embarrassment, the latter being probably at his blunder, and Allen took a chance. “Link?” He waited until Link was clearly and completely focused on him, and then smiled hopefully. “W-would you like to go out sometime? On a date, I mean.”

Link stared at him, mouth open slightly. He blinked, and then his head jerked slightly, so he was looking away from Allen, pink once again dusting his cheeks. And then he nodded. “I, ah… Yes. I would.” He looked at Allen and smiled, soft and genuine, and Allen beamed back.

“Great!” Allen exclaimed, relief and happiness making his chest feel light. “Would Wednesday night work?”

Link nodded mutely without pausing to think, and Allen smiled.

“It’s a date, then,” he said cheerfully, and reached into the bag for another cookie.


End file.
